


Press One for a Hot Date

by Liji



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bad Pick-Up Lines, Customer Service & Tech Support, F/F, Flirting, M/M, Pansexual Character, Pick-Up Lines, but why not fix himself a date while he's at it?, call center au, dave needs his goddamn laptop fixed, davekat centric, karkat is a shouty tech support guy, pansexual dave, pansexual karkat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 05:16:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7495290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liji/pseuds/Liji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“THIS IS KARKAT FROM CUSTOMER SERVICES SPEAKING, HOW MAY I HELP YOU?” </p>
<p>“Yeah, hi.  Is that how you greet all customers, by blowing a hole in their eardrums?  ‘Cause I prefer to be blown somewhere else, thanks.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In which Dave calls Tech Support to fix his laptop and figures, why not fix himself up a date while he's at it?  The angry asshole on the other side of the phone seems like fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Press One for a Hot Date

**Author's Note:**

> I was going through some old work and found this gem, which I had to publish. Looks like I'll never escape Davekat hell...

Of all days for Dirk to leave for a road trip with his boyfriend, he just  _ had _ to pick the one where your laptop broke down.

 

“Calm down Dave, you can fix this.  Just go into the system’s programming page-”

 

“Yeah, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.  I’m going to call an actual help center, where they speak fucking English.”

 

Dirk sighed on the other end of the phone, like he was dealing with an annoying little brat.

 

“Fine, do that.  Now I’m trying to enjoy the sight of endless sand and the occasional cactus, so don’t bother me again.  Jake says we might even see a cornfield soon,” he replied, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.  You hear Jake’s indignant exclamation in the background, followed by muted muttering.

 

“Have fun.  Practice safe sex.  Buy a crappy souvenir mug to bring home,” you cut yourself off there, before you go on another one of your infamous rambles.  A click tells you Dirk hung up.

 

“Damn, now I actually have to call a help center,” you mutter, quickly searching for one on your phone.  With a sigh, you type in the number of the first place to pop up.

 

“THIS IS KARKAT FROM CUSTOMER SERVICES SPEAKING, HOW MAY I HELP YOU?” a loud voice comes from the phone.  You yank it away from your ear and decide to just put it on speaker phone.

 

“Yeah, hi.  Is that how you greet all customers, by blowing a hole in their eardrums?  ‘Cause I prefer to be blown somewhere else, thanks.”

 

“What the fuck?  Do you need help or not?” the voice said again, this time at a normal volume.

 

“Yeah bro, I do.  You said your name was Karkat, right?  Hi Karkat, I’m Dave.   This damn laptop your company sold me keeps saying “This file cannot be read” or some shit and is taking a fucking ridiculous time to load and even say that.  I’m about to stick a pin in that fucking beach ball.  It’s like, you’re on a road trip and you’ve been sitting in the car all fucking day looking at cornfields and when you finally get to your hotel, they tell you to wait in the lobby because your room isn’t ready.  So you spend the night in the lobby and the next morning they tell you there never was a room to begin with and you need to leave because you’re disturbing the other patrons.”

 

You hear a muffled snort of laughter on the other end of the phone and smirk a little.  The Strider charm never fails.

 

“Yeah, I have no idea what the fuck you just said.  Have you tried turning it on and off?”

 

You dramatically hit yourself on the forehead, and then remember that he can’t see you and immediately feel a little silly.  That is Egbert level of doofiness right there.

 

“Oh no, I forgot to try the most fucking obvious thing to do.  Of course I tried that, and nothing changed.”

 

You hear a loud, irritated sigh on the other end of the phone.

 

“Sounds like you have a problem with the hard drive, but you don’t know a fucking thing about computers, so you can’t confirm that for me.  Just bring it into the shop, and I’ll take a look at it.”

 

“Bro, that is the least romantic way of asking me out I can think of.  Shouldn’t you buy me some flowers first?  Make me motherfucking swoon, Karkles.”

 

“First off, never call me that.  Second, you could be a middle aged pedophile for all I fucking know.  Third, I’ve known you for approximately three minutes and I already fucking hate you.”

 

“You wound me, Karkles.  I’m clutching my chest dramatically and everything, like I’m auditioning for one of Shakespeare’s shitty plays.  You’re the blushing maiden who I must pursue, my cape flapping valiantly in the wind as I ride to your rescue on horseback.”

 

From the other end of the phone you hear a muffled, “What the fuck, KK?  Not even TZ could ever make you turn that red, is someone trying to have phone sex with you?”

 

You laugh loudly as Karkat sputters indignantly.

 

“Alright, I’ll see you at the shop in twenty.  You better have those flowers ready, Karkles.”

  
  


Your name is Karkat Vantas and you believe you have a date.

 

Sollux glances over at you, where you’re still gaping at the phone in your hand, even though he already hung up.  “What the fuck just happened?”

 

You shake your head wordlessly, setting the phone back on the counter.

 

“I just spent four minutes and thirteen seconds getting hit on, confused as fuck, and once again wowed by the stupidity of humanity.  Oh, and apparently I need flowers.  I have a date.”

 

Sollux blinks at you blankly.  “The fuck?”

 

You sigh and lean back in the uncomfortable office chair.

 

“I answer the phone, this technologically dumb prick hits on me, I tell him to come into the shop, he tells me it’s a date and to make him swoon with flowers.”

 

“That sounds like the beginning to one of your shitty romcoms,” Sollux quips, sniggering to himself.  You roll your eyes.  “What’s this dude’s name anyway?”

 

You bite your lip and try to recall it.  Was it Dan?  Dale?

 

“Dave,” you say, the name hitting you.  “His name was Dave.”

 

“Well, I’m sure Dave is going to be in the shop any minute now, you better go greet him.  I’ll get ED to take over this phone.  I’m happy to cut his break ten minutes short.”

 

You snort, standing up and pushing your chair in.  You’re nothing if not courteous.

 

“Not because you want a certain asshole with fish breath sitting next to you, right?”

 

Sollux flips you off.  “Go woo your date, asshole.”

 

You roll your eyes and call a quick, “Don’t have sex on the carpet!” after you, shutting the door with your customary slam.

 

The shop is busy, with people bustling around, talking to the salespeople for hours before deciding not to buy anything.  You’re glad you usually work in the call center in the back.  Your face to face interaction is kept to a minimum. 

 

After spending about ten minutes tinkering around with a laptop that’s the entire tech support team is attempting to build, you look up to see a blonde guy with ridiculous hipster shades taking up half his face.

And carrying a bouquet of the most aggressively pink flowers you’ve ever seen.

 

You stare blankly at him until he meets your gaze,  At least, you think he does.  It’s hard to tell with the shades.

 

Yep, he definitely saw you.  The fuckass is striding over towards you, hideous flowers still in hand.

 

“Karkat?” he asks questioningly.  You sigh.

 

“Dave?”

 

A tiny smirk graces his features.  

 

“Woah, you’re actually kind of hot.  Those cheekbones could chop fucking lumber, dude.”

 

A brilliant blush graces your features, your cheeks turning a bright scarlet.  Even though that was the least romantic thing anyone has ever said to you, and you’re including Eridan’s pick up lines in that.  Fuck this guy.  Please.  Wait, fuck, not what you meant to think.

 

“Yeah, well, you’re not too bad looking yourself,” you mumble, lying through your teeth.  He’s sexy as hell, and from the look on his face, he damn well knows it.

 

“No one can resist the Strider charm, dude.  Not even shouty tech support people who are a lot shorter than I imagined.”

 

You ignore the jab at your height.  You have a perfectly respectable height, thank you very much,  and this asshole can fuck off.

 

“Strider?” you question.  Dave smacks his forehead, the most expressive you’ve seen him.

 

“Forgot to introduce myself.  Dave Strider here, the one and only.  No autographs, please.”

 

You roll your eyes at that and hold out a hand for him to shake.

 

“Karkat Vantas, tech support.  Did you bring in that laptop or not?”

 

Instead of shaking your hand, Dave takes it and kisses it.  You yank it out of his grasp and look around, mortified.

 

”What the fuck are you doing?” you hiss angrily.  He shrugs.

 

“You’re my blushing maiden to woo,” he says with a smirk.  You roll your eyes, trying to control the heat in your cheeks  and somewhere else .  “Speaking of wooing, I brought you flowers.”

You sigh and take the hideous monsters from him, noticing a card on them.  You frown when you open it.

 

_ To Dave _

_ Thanks for a great season!  We couldn’t have done it without you, and hope to see you again next year! _

_ Love, _

_ Linda, Helen, Gloria, Sharon, and Debbie _

 

You raise an eyebrow at the person in front of you, observing a slight blush on his cheeks.

 

“Did you seriously just give me a bouquet you had lying around the house?” you question. He coughs.

 

“They’re perfectly nice flowers, and I can’t keep shit alive.  Thought they’d be better off with you,” he says as nonchalantly as possible.

 

“You didn’t realize there was a card, did you?”

 

“I’m not going to answer that.”

 

“Who the fuck are ‘Linda, Helen, Gloria, Stacy, and Debbie’ anyway?  Soccer moms?  Do you coach a pee-wee soccer team?”

 

Dave raises an eyebrow at you, and you can barely see it over the top of his shades.  He has the palest hair you’ve ever seen.   You sort of want to run your hands through it .

 

“Not a word against the soccer moms, bro.  Those ladies practically raised me.”

 

You raise an eyebrow at him right back, but his words stick in your mind.  Why would they have raised him?

 

“Oh?  How old were you when you started flirting with them, you literal motherfucker?”

 

“What can I say bro, I told you no one can resist the Strider charm.  I’m the smoothest thing around.  Smoother than fucking peanut butter, although why anyone would buy smooth when crunchy peanut butter exists is beyond me. Nobody wants to just eat sticky stuff that sticks to the roof of your mouth so you look like a doofus trying to lick it off.”

 

You try to muffle a snort.  He may be an idiot, but he’s an idiotically funny one.   And a hot one .

 

“You never answered my question, though.  Do you coach a pee-wee soccer team?”

 

“...”

 

“Dave?”

 

“Just for the record, it’s T-ball, and I am the best fucking coach in the entire state.  Those kids crush their enemies with me leading them gloriously into battle.  I make them EARN those participation awards.”

 

“Oh my god, you coach T-ball.”

 

“And that’s not the only kind of ball I’m good with,” Dave says with a smirk, glancing down at you.  Fuck tall people.  

 

“Wha- Oh my god, that was terrible.  I thought you were supposed to be smooth?” You ask him.  His smirk grows into a wide, shit eating grin.

 

“Why, I only meant I’m also the best dodgeballer in the city, if my experience at Derse Middle School is anything to go off of.  Wherever did your mind go to?”

 

You groan and lean against the counter.

 

“I’ve known you for a combined total of six whopping minutes and I already hate you, Strider,” you grumble.  He snorts.

 

“Please, I’m too cute to hate,” he tells you with his stupid fucking voice that’s the most melodic fucking thing you’ve heard all day.  

 

You raise one sarcastic eyebrow, a skill you have managed to perfect after many hours in front of the mirror.

 

“I thought you were supposed to be wooing me?”

 

Dave lightly smacks his forehead.

 

“Shit, you’re right.  Alright techy boy, wanna get some grub with yours truly?”

 

You sigh and gesture towards your nametag.

 

“Still at work, remember?  I’m stuck here for another two hours.”

 

“Fucking capitalism,” Dave curses, before suddenly smirking at you again.  Again with that goddamn smirk.  “So you do want to go out for dinner with me?”

Fuck, you had said that.  It was true, but Karkat Vantas was not desperate and he sure as hell never sounded like he was.  

 

“I guess,” you say, sighing with what hopefully sounds like convincing defeat.  “Alright, where are we going?”

 

Dave grins, and you think you see genuine happiness flash momentarily across his features.  It’s hard to tell with the sunglasses.  You suppose that’s the point of them.  Douche.

 

“It’s a surprise,” he tells you with a quirk of his eyebrows.  You scowl.

 

“Well, how the fuck will I know where to meet you?” You ask him.  He runs his hands through his pale, thick hair.

 

“I’m just gonna hang out here until you’re off duty,” he informs you matter of factly.  

 

“Wha- That’s going to be another two hours!  And a tech store is only interesting for about five minutes.  Plus, this way I won’ have time to get ready or even change out of my work clothes-”

 

“Karkles,” he begins, cutting you off.  

 

“ _ Not _ my name.”

 

“Whatever you say, Karkles.  Point is, I need a new camera anyway so I’m cool with waiting for you.  And those tight work pants make your ass look great, so there’s no need to change,” he says.  You huff in frustration.

 

“Creep.”

 

“Shouty,” he counters.

 

“Motherfucker.”

 

“Computer fucker.”

 

“Grubfisting douchebag.”

 

“Tsundere.”

 

“Gay.”

 

“Well, no fucking shit,” Dave deadpans.  “Although just for clarity’s sake, I dig certain kitchen appliances.”

 

“I take it you’re pansexual?” You ask him.  “Are you saying we actually have something in common?”

 

“Seems like we do, my blushing maiden.  Although my brand of pansexual is usually “attracted to anything vaguely humanoid”.  I’ll fuck a guy.  I’ll fuck a girl.  I’ll fuck a person.  Hell, I’ll fuck an alien.”

 

A middle-aged woman turns around and shoots him an angry look, covering her baby son’s ears with her hands.  You’re tempted to remind her that kid can’t understand a goddamn word Strider’s saying, but decide to pick and choose your battles.

 

“Go flirt with the cashiers for a while Strider, you’re making a scene,” you complain.  

 

“Are you accusing me of being unfaithful, dearest?  You know you’re the only one in my heart,” he tells you dramatically.  Asshole.

 

“ _ Goodbye _ , Strider,” you say, taking his broken laptop out of his hands.  “Some of us have a job to do.”

 

He gives you one more winning smirk before turning and examining a nearby camera, without taking his shades off.  What a douchebag.  You sigh and head back into your little office with his laptop in your hands.  You just hope you’re not distracted enough to fuck anything up.

  
And whatever Sollux says about the blush on your cheeks, you are most definitely  _ not _ eagerly awaiting the end of your shift.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I'd love to hear some feedback! I'm not sure if I should continue this or leave it as a oneshot, so it would be cool of you to comment what you think. Thank you! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧


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